“A New Frontier.”
John F. Kennedy first used those words on July 15, 1960, in his acceptance speech at the Democratic National Convention in Los Angeles, California, on the night he won the party’s nomination for President.
The phrase stuck, soon symbolizing everything from Kennedy’s campaign to the candidate himself.
No question, Kennedy was young. Forty-two years old at the start of his campaign. If elected, he’d be the youngest President ever to hold the office. In the twentieth century, only Theodore Roosevelt, who became President back in 1901, was a similar age, and he was an outlier. Every other President was over fifty.
From the start, the political class believed Kennedy’s youth would be a liability. When the Massachusetts Senator first announced his Presidential run, former President Harry Truman asked, “Senator, are you certain that you are quite ready for the country, or that the country is ready for you in the role of President . . . ? [We need] a man with the greatest possible maturity and experience. May I urge you to be patient?”
“Grow up and stop acting like a boy,” U.S. Senator and rival for the Democratic nomination Hubert Humphrey also weighed in.
During the primaries, the insults kept coming. When Kennedy’s doctors made his medical records public, his Democratic primary opponent Senator Lyndon Johnson of Texas quipped that Kennedy was “lucky to receive a glowing medical report . . . from his pediatrician.” It was a solid jab, yet what none of Kennedy’s opponents understood was that, in 1960, at the start of a decade that would usher in enormous transformation, youth wasn’t a liability. In fact, his youth, confidence, and optimism were probably the defining assets of his campaign.
Some of this was due to demographics.
The term “teenager,” which would later become an indelible part of the American vocabulary, was still new, referring to a group that had only recently been invented. The first known popular usage of the term was in 1946, not becoming commonplace until the 1950s. In previous generations, young people generally went straight into the workforce, usually into the family business. The jump from kid to breadwinner happened fast. But in the 1940s and 1950s, as child labor was gradually outlawed, young people started going to secondary school, driving cars, and having leisure time. Most vital, in the middle class and above, they had money to spend.
It almost sounds absurd now, but back then, older Americans didn’t know what to make of this new category of young Americans, mostly treating them with derision or even fear. “The abolition of child labor and the lengthening span of formal education have given us a huge leisure class of the young, with animal energies never absorbed by tasks of production,” the New York Times worried in 1957. Older Americans also became obsessed with dangers like “juvenile delinquency,” a condition that often boiled down simply to young
people not respecting or agreeing with their parents.
Needless to say, the youth revolution caused sweeping changes in the culture, especially in entertainment and the arts.
In music, pioneering Black artists Little Richard, Chuck Berry, Bo Diddley, and others melded the traditional Black music form the blues with up-tempo rhythms to create a new musical form—rock ’n’ roll—that would send those teenage “animal energies” into overdrive.
White artists such as Elvis Presley and Buddy Holly added elements of country and pop music to make the sound more mainstream— turning teen-oriented music into a cultural and commercial juggernaut. For all the hand-wringing that grown-ups did about this new teenage explosion in society, they often ignored a key aspect of the group.
Namely, that this new generation of young people, coming of age in the 1940s and 1950s, was the most educated generation in history.
In 1920, only 30 percent of teenagers were in high school. By 1936, the percentage had doubled. Since then, the numbers climbed every year.
Accompanying this education came an independent spirit . . . and a profound sense of idealism.
Young people were the ones who led the way in the defining domestic issue of the day: the Civil Rights Movement. Young Black leaders, many of them still high school and college students, had emerged all over the South, forming organizations to fight the injustice of forced segregation, voting discrimination, and other forms of inequality codified by “Jim Crow” laws in southern states.
In 1955, fifteen-year-old Claudette Colvin of Montgomery, Alabama, refused to give up her seat and stand in the whites-only section of a public bus. Police dragged her off and arrested her, sparking a lawsuit.
Nine months later, activist Rosa Parks was famously inspired to do the same, which led to the Montgomery bus boycott.
At lunch counter sit-ins, nonviolent demonstrations, and protest marches, teenagers and other young people often led the way.
More than previous generations, young white Americans were ready to join the struggle for civil rights, often diverging from their own parents. White college students especially were ready to put their hearts—and in a few cases their lives—on the line to join the fight.
And a fight it was. The push for Black integration and equality was met with overwhelming force and brutality. Southern governments and law enforcement responded to the movement with shocking violence, using every tool of the state to brutalize, arrest, and imprison protesters.
Southern law enforcement often coordinated directly with the Ku Klux Klan and similar white vigilante groups. If there was a sit-in or march, gangs of KKK members would arrive at a designated time, armed with baseball bats and axe handles. Sure, the police were there, but they’d stand back and watch the white foot soldiers beat on nonviolent protesters. Then, the police would arrest the bloodied victims.
In the late 1950s, as the battle over civil rights intensified and the images became increasingly violent, America was approaching a crossroads.
What kind of country did we want to be?
John F. Kennedy, the handsome and young-looking forty-three- year-old, had an idea.
Lucky for him, these educated, idealistic, rock-’n’-rolling teenagers who came of age during the 1950s were listening.